


walk with me in the skin of a wolf.

by doctorkaitlyn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Claiming, F/F, Oral Sex, Scent Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2781566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there's one thing Laura Hale can't figure out, it's why the smartest girl she knows won't accept the bite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	walk with me in the skin of a wolf.

**Author's Note:**

> partially based off of the caption on [this](http://captaindick.tumblr.com/post/57982487671/baratheon-help-me-peter-looks-at-stiles) post and partially inspired by a post I can't track down about female alphas having only female betas. (:

If there's one thing Laura Hale can't figure out, it's why the smartest girl she knows won't accept the bite.

Sure, it's not as if her pack is really lacking; each of the three betas she's acquired since returning to Beacon Hills possess different strengths. Allison, Erica and Cora each bring something to the pack and together, they make each other stronger, make _her_ stronger. She cherishes each of them equally, would do absolutely anything for them. 

But still, even with three betas, her pack feels incomplete. There's one more girl that Laura wants to run beside her, one more girl that Laura wants to see with claws and fangs.

Lydia Martin. 

While Laura had seen Lydia before, when she was scouting Allison as a potential addition to her pack, they didn't meet officially until after Allison accepted the bite. While she'd been tossing and turning, groaning as the bite made its way through her system, Lydia had strode into Laura's house on four inch heels, completely uninvited, sparing not even a second glance for Erica and Cora. She simply walked up to Laura and stared her down like Laura was no more intimidating than a pimply-faced freshman. 

“If she dies,” Lydia had said softly, eyes shifting sideways towards the door that Allison was struggling behind, “I will rip your heart out.” If it had been anyone else saying it to Laura, she would have dismissed it with a simple laugh. But coming from Lydia's mouth, it sounded like far more than an impotent threat. It sounded like a _promise._

Once Allison managed to fall asleep, Laura joined Lydia at her bedside. Her eyes automatically focused on the soft curve of Lydia's neck, peeking out from between strands of her strawberry-blonde hair. Her features had softened while she looked at Allison but as soon as she turned her head, they hardened right back up. 

“I could give it to you too,” Laura said quietly, letting her eyes shift red. “You could be like her. You could be part of the pack.” Lydia's hand was sitting in her lap and with sure fingers, Laura trailed one of her claws along her wrist, tracing over the blue vein visible beneath Lydia's pale skin. She could feel the blood flowing beneath that skin, could only imagine how it would taste in her mouth. 

“The whole world could be yours.” It was a cheesy line, taken out of her brother Derek's playbook but truthfully, she was hardly aware that she was saying it. The closer she leaned in, the more wonderful Lydia smelled. Before she'd bitten the others, they'd all had a little bit of fear on them; it was subtle, mingled in with excitement, but it still existed. But there was no fear on Lydia, none at all and that just made Laura's fangs ache in her mouth. Lydia's dedication and her fearlessness were both valuable traits. If they were combined with Allison's knowledge of hunters, Erica's charisma and Cora's snarl, it would make their pack unstoppable. 

But then Lydia had _laughed_ in her face. 

“Sweetheart, I don't need fangs and claws to make the world mine.” With that, she'd pressed a gentle kiss to Allison's forehead and left without so much as a glance backwards. 

The rejection shouldn't have registered on Laura's radar; _Lydia_ shouldn't have registered. She was just a seventeen year old girl with a superiority complex and a snarky mouth. There were plenty of other smart girls in Beacon Hills, girls who would have made excellent additions to Laura's pack.

But somehow, Laura believed that finding another girl with all of Lydia's admirable traints was going to be a lot harder to do.

&.

Lydia didn't stay away for long. Even though she didn't bother to hide her derision, she kept tagging along with Allison, even after Laura tried to make it very clear to her that some discussions were only between werewolves. 

However, more often than not, Lydia actually had something useful to bring to the table. It took only a few days for Laura to realize that in addition to being beautiful and haughty (not to mention completely out of Laura's reach), Lydia was a bona fide genius. She spoke a ridiculous number of languages, knew the chemistry behind seemingly every compound harmful to werewolves and on the occasions where Allison asked her to do research for them, Lydia had treated it as no more difficult than a walk in the park. 

And she did it all without a single hair moving out of place. 

In the months that passed after their first meeting, Laura asked her twice more. The first time was more of a joke than anything, just a snide comment after Lydia had shown up with a bandage around her hand, swaddling a chemical burn that her “idiot of a lab partner” had given her. 

“I know how to make that heal faster,” Laura had said, flashing her eyes. As she expected, Lydia had simply rolled her eyes and ignored her, like she was no more important than an omega. 

The second time hadn't been a joke. 

It was late at night, two days before the full moon. For nearly three days, Erica had been suffering from agonizing headaches that were making her shift impossible to control, no matter how much pain Laura leeched away from her. Laura had never seen or heard of anything similar so she'd hit the books, combing through the stacks upon stacks of tomes her parents had given her over the years. At two in the morning, a car door slammed outside. That was followed by the click of heels on the front porch and moments later, Lydia strolled in, impeccable as always, dropped her purse on the table and sat down opposite Laura. Although her hair looked completely dry, Laura could still smell her shampoo and body wash and she flared her nostrils, trying to be subtle about it. 

“Give me a book,” Lydia demanded and Laura blindly handed her one of the tomes cluttering the table. Lydia flipped it open and immediately fell quiet, her eyes scanning the pages, lips moving as she occasionally murmured something to herself. Laura tried her best to focus on the books and for awhile, it worked. But eventually, her resolve wavered and she looked across the table at Lydia. Even though Laura had made some werewolves absolutely rank with fear just by approaching them, as always, there was not even a hint of fear on Lydia. Instead, there was something like sheer determination, a kind of earthy smell that seemed more suited for a forest dweller than a city girl. It was a smell suited for a wolf. 

“Why won't you take it?” she asked abruptly, biting back a groan as she inhaled more of Lydia's scent. Lydia's finger stopped trailing down the yellowed page in front of her and she looked up, her lips pursed slightly. 

“Take what?”

“The _bite_.” Laura leaned forward, unable to help herself. “Half the people in your school would get down on their knees and beg just for a chance at getting it. But you don't have to do that. Just say the word and I'll do it.” For a few moments, Lydia stayed silent, eyes wide with an emotion Laura couldn't recognize. Finally, she leaned forward as well, putting mere inches between their faces and the instant her mouth curled into a smile, Laura knew what her answer was going to be. 

“If you're waiting for me to say it, you'll be waiting a _long_ time.” She stared Laura down for another few moments before that mocking smile fell away and she sat back down, returning her gaze to the book in front of her. 

Five minutes later, when Lydia discovered a possible explanation for Erica's headaches, Laura had just managed to take her eyes off of her.

&. 

She doesn't mention the bite again for months, aside from another stupid joke she makes on Lydia's eighteenth birthday. Aside from that, Laura keeps any and all conversation regarding the bite away from Lydia Martin, even though with every day that goes by, the desire to have her as part of the pack only increases. 

But on the night that Lydia saves their lives, Laura asks again. 

She's torn out of a dead sleep by an agonized howl unlike anything she's ever heard before. As the noise continues, it seems to burrow down into the very marrow of her bones. When she opens her mouth, a howl of her own rips out of her throat, promising death to whoever is harming one of her betas.

As soon as she steps outside, the howl shatters the night again and this time, Laura's claws and fangs snap through her skin. If she's correct, the noise is coming from the high school and this time, with nothing but the night air in her way, Laura can tell that it's Allison who's screaming for her. She shifts as she runs, not pausing as the wolf completely overtakes her human form. Erica and Cora are behind her, already shifted as well and when Allison howls again, they both whimper like they've been struck across the face. 

Laura picks up Allison's scent at the edge of the preserve, which isn't at all surprising; she's been meeting a boy there for weeks, a boy from Derek's pack. But the boy's scent is nearly smothered underneath the stench of pure human, of gun oil and silver. 

Hunters. Probably members of Allison's family, who still can't accept that one of their own would rather run as a wolf than slay them. 

She picks up the pace, leaping over the fence at the back of the high school in one bound. Allison's scent is getting stronger with every step she takes but there's another one growing as well. At first, it reminds Laura of the forest but the closer she gets to the school, the more she catches other notes within it. There _is_ a note of wood but it's more like the smell of a tree that has been rotting for years. It makes Laura's hackles rise and she chooses her steps carefully, darting from shadow to shadow. The only footsteps she hears are Erica and Cora's behind her and after a moment of hunching underneath a bus, she moves forward towards the school's back door. 

It's locked, but a little glass is nothing to an Alpha. 

The school is quiet, almost ominously so, but Laura knows Allison is there. She can feel it, just as sure as she can feel her paws at the end of her legs. But that _smell_ gets stronger as she pads down the hallway. Now, it smells more like spoiled meet, like game left out in the sun too long. Laura tries to hold her breath as she moves forward but with each step, her head gets woozier and her stomach churns. That's quickly followed by a throbbing pain in her muscles, which spreads through her nerves and bones. She turns to tell Cora and Erica to get out but they're already on the floor, whimpering quietly and Laura growls, ignoring how the action sends agony through her throat. 

Mountain ash. It has to be mountain ash. This was all a goddamn trap. 

Her legs finally give out. When she hits the ground, the bones of her ribs sing with pain and she nearly blacks out. After taking a few wheezing breaths, she forces her eyes to focus and that's when she sees the man standing in front of her. His dirt-encrusted boots are level with her eyes and when she follows his legs upwards, her gaze lands on the face of a middle-aged man, skin tanned, cracked lips twisted into a smirk. 

“Got you, bitch,” he says and that smirk turns into a grin. Laura uses what energy she has left to crane her head forward and snap her jaws, hoping to sink her teeth into his toes. As it is, she barely skims the end of his boots and he chuckles, lifting his foot off the ground. 

“I'm going to enjoy this.” 

“So am I.” 

Lydia's voice comes from Laura's right and as the man turns his head, a wooden baseball bat slams into his face. There's a sickening crack as his nose breaks and warm blood begins to drip onto Laura's fur. Before the man can say anything or move, the bat connects with his forehead, sending him to the floor in a sprawl of limbs. Lydia drops to her knees and her warm hands come up to gently cradle Laura's head. If Laura had the energy, she would lick the damn girl. 

“It's in the air conditioning,” Lydia says quickly, her thumbs stroking through the thick fur of Laura's neck. “I can shut it off, please don't die on me.” With that, she turns and starts running down the hallway, the click of her heels on the tiles astoundingly loud even after she disappears around the corner. Laura focuses on that sound, thinks of it and it alone, a distraction from the searing pain. 

The next thing she knows, she's leaning against a wall, back in her human skin, a blanket covering her up. Derek is crouched beside her, holding a bundle of her clothes and before she can say anything, he lunges in and hugs her hard enough to make her still-sore ribs creak. 

“What happened?” she asks after she pulls away, motioning for him to turn around so she can pull her clothes on.

“Hunters,” Derek says, not elaborating further. “One of them was bleeding pretty bad when we got here. I called Allison's father while you were out, he said he'd take care of it.” 

“Where are the girls? Are they okay?” 

“Scott drove them home. They're okay. You just shifted back, I was afraid to move you. Are _you_ okay?” 

“I'm fine,” Laura huffs, shaking her hair loose. Her bones still feel like they're stitching themselves back together and there's a headache throbbing behind her eyes, but those will go away soon enough. What's important is that she's alive and unscathed, that her _pack_ is alive. 

And that's when she remembers the sound of clicking heels and the feeling of thumbs gently stroking through her fur. 

“Have you seen Lydia?” she asks and Derek shakes his head. 

“No. Are you sure she was here?”

“Yes,” Laura snaps, “I'm sure.” She doesn't mean to sound so harsh but Derek must assume it's just the pain talking, because he pulls her into another hug. Even though she desperately wants to get home, Laura doesn't let go for a long time. 

Once she lets go, she rejects his offer of a ride back to the house. The fresh air will do her good and besides, she has to make sure they haven't missed anything else. It's all too possible that there are other booby traps in the woods, just waiting to hurt or kill one of them. So she takes the long route through the preserve, checking and double checking every suspicious scent. By the time she makes it back to the house, there's blood drying between her bare toes and sweat drying on her skin but none of that is important. What's important is that she's positive that they're safe, for another night at least. 

She can hear three intertwined heartbeats inside the house, thrumming slow and steady. She doesn't think she's ever been so grateful to hear such a sound. Based on how the beats are layered, she's pretty sure Allison, Erica and Cora are all in the same room, probably curled up on the same bed. Laura completely understands; werewolves are tactile creatures at the best of times and truth be told, she's tempted to join them, even if she has to curl up on the floor to do so. 

But wait. There's something else. There's _four_ heartbeats. The fourth is quieter but quicker, not the sound of someone asleep. It's also distinctly human and Laura only has to take a single breath once she's stepped inside to know who it is. 

Lydia.

Before she goes to her own bedroom, she checks on the girls. Sure enough, they're tangled up on Cora's bed, Allison in the middle. They look paler than usual, like they're still recovering from their wounds, but they don't smell like they're in pain. They don't stir, even when Laura crosses the room and presses a kiss to each of their foreheads, so she leaves them to sleep and crosses the hallway, taking a moment to stare at the closed door that faces her. 

She shouldn't be afraid of this. Lydia is just a girl, warm flesh and blood. She doesn't have fangs beneath her gums or claws hidden underneath her nails. But she has a mean swing with a baseball bat and a kind heart (even if it's buried underneath layers of ice) and she had _asked_ Laura not to die, like she actually cared. 

Laura has no idea how she's supposed to handle _any_ of that. 

She pushes the door open and finds Lydia perched on the edge of her bed, a textbook resting in her lap, twirling a pen in her fingers. Although her body language doesn't change in any way, even after Laura shuts the door behind herself, she can still hear the way Lydia's heartbeat speeds up slightly. 

“What are you doing here?” Laura asks. 

“Waiting for you,” Lydia replies, flipping the book shut and setting it on the floor. “I wanted to make sure you were okay, but I didn't feel like answering any stupid questions from your brother.” She looks up at Laura, her hands clasped in her lap. “ _Are_ you okay?” 

“I'll be fine.” Laura knows that she should be telling her to leave. Lydia isn't pack, she has no right to infringe upon Laura's privacy, to enter her bedroom without an invitation. 

But Laura knows she's just trying to justify things for herself. If Lydia had asked for an invitation, she would have granted it, even with their history of animosity. The girl saved Laura's life. She saved all of them. At the very least, she can hold off on kicking her out of her bedroom for a few moments.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. After a moment of consideration, she sits beside Lydia on the bed. Although being that close to her scent is torturous (like always), it's far less awkward than simply standing in the middle of the room. “I don't know how you knew where to find her, but thank you.” 

“I heard her scream,” Lydia responds. “I was out driving and I heard her scream. I just followed it." 

“Thank you,” Laura says again; third time's the charm, after all. When she looks up, Lydia actually looks slightly taken aback. Laura can hear her blood pumping in her veins and, like the sound of her heels on the tiles, it's all she can focus on. “I don't know how to repay you.” She reaches out and runs her fingers along Lydia's wrist, tracing the lines of her veins. Lydia doesn't pull away (she never has, Laura realizes). She simply stares at Laura, her expression frustratingly hard to read. 

“What are you doing?” she asks and Laura has to swallow. Of all the times she's offered Lydia the bite, she's never meant it more than she does right now. 

“I don't just offer the bite to just anyone,” she says quietly. “Only to people who would bring something to the pack and Lydia, you'd bring _so_ much to the pack. If you say no this time, I'll never ask again but if you ever want it, at anytime, the bite is yours.” Somewhere along the way, their fingers have slotted together and when Laura looks back up, she doesn't think that she's ever seen Lydia look so vulnerable. Her eyes are wide and her lips are parted and Laura wants nothing more than to lean in and kiss her but before she can do so, Lydia flares her nostrils and purses her lips again, tensing right back up. 

But she doesn't pull her hand away from Laura's.

“If I was a wolf, you would have died tonight,” she says and Laura has to admit, she has a point. “If you're so determined to have me in your pack, isn't there a way to do that _without_ biting and possibly killing me?” 

Just like that, something clicks in Laura's mind. She doesn't know how she hasn't thought of it before (especially since it's how her brother incorporated that insufferable Stilinski kid into his pack) but, if Lydia will let her do it, it will work. For all intents and purposes, it'll make her _pack_ , even if it doesn't make her _wolf._

“Yeah,” she says, mouth suddenly dry. “There's another way.” Loosening their fingers, she raises Lydia's hand to her mouth. Even though her fangs are practically itching to drop, she forces them to stay hidden and instead, she turns and rubs her cheek along Lydia's wrist. Laura can hear her heartbeat speeding up, even before she pushes the sleeve of Lydia's cardigan up to her elbow.

“What are you doing?” Lydia asks for the second time in five minutes but this time, it's far quieter. 

“Making you smell like me,” Laura murmurs into the crook of Lydia's elbow, unable to resist from pressing her lips against the thin skin there. “Scent-marking.”

“Oh.” Lydia moves her arm slightly and Laura is ready to pull back, ready to force herself to move away. Instead, Lydia shrugs her cardigan off and folds it neatly, setting it on one of Laura's pillows. She slides her heels off with a muted thud and gracefully swings her legs up onto the bed. 

“Can I keep going?” Laura asks and while Lydia rolls her eyes, Laura catches the hitch in her breathing. 

“You might as well finish what you started.” Her arms are bare up to her shoulders and Laura decides to pick up where she left off. She turns so that she's fully on the bed as well and, after only a moment of hesitation, kneels between Lydia's legs. Lydia extends her arm and when Laura brushes her cheek against the inside of her bicep, Lydia's fingers push into her tangled hair, gently scratching at her scalp. It shouldn't feel so good but it makes Laura stifle a sigh against Lydia's shoulder. From there, she moves onto Lydia's other arm, starting at her palm and moving up until she's reached the shoulder of her blouse. By the time she reaches that point, both of Lydia's hands are twisted into her hair, keeping Laura from pulling away more than a few inches. 

“More,” Lydia says, sounding strangely out of breath. “Keep going.” 

“Okay,” Laura murmurs. Lydia already smells amazing; their scents have started to combine together and underneath it, there's something sweet, something that carries the distinct note of _want._ Lydia tilts her head back against Laura's pillow and there's no way that Laura is going to ignore such an obvious clue. She moves lower so that she can nuzzle her face into Lydia's neck, concentrating on the area surrounding her pulse point. When she brushes her lips against the warm skin there, Lydia's fingers tighten in her hair, pushing her even lower and Laura is all too happy to oblige. The only problem is that Lydia's blouse is in the way. It's a problem that could be easily solved by the use of her claws but as soon as Laura flicks them out, Lydia sits up, forcing her to move backwards. 

“Don't you _dare_ ,” she hisses, already reaching for the hem. Laura thinks about growling at her but before she can make a decision, Lydia tugs her blouse over her head and sets it off to the side. Seconds later, her sure fingers do away with her bra as well. At the sight of all the pale skin before her, the growl dies in Laura's throat. 

She's going to mark every inch of Lydia's body so thoroughly that no other wolf will ever be able to lay claim on her. 

“Lay back down,” she says with a swallow, resting her hands on the soft curve of Lydia's hips. She manages to wait until Lydia is lying back against the pillows before she leans back down, dragging her cheek along Lydia's collarbone. Lydia's hands fly back to her hair, combing through it in the same way her thumbs had dragged through Laura's fur and she growls, pressing another soft kiss to the base of Lydia's throat. Before she moves any lower, Laura looks up, seeking permission. 

“Yes,” Lydia says before Laura can even ask the question. “Please.” She doesn't wait for Laura to move her hands; her slim fingers wrap around Laura's wrists and Laura lets her guide her hands until they're just hovering over Lydia's full breasts. As soon as Laura drops her hands, Lydia moans and shuts her eyes, arching up into Laura's hands. Her lips are parted and pink and before Laura can stop herself, she leans down and fits her mouth against Lydia's, brushing her thumbs over her nipples as she does so. 

This isn't just scent marking anymore; this is _claiming_ , pure and simple. Lydia opens up further for her and when she pulls away, she tugs Laura's lip between her teeth, like a taunt. 

“Weren't you doing something?” Lydia asks, head cocked slightly and Laura can't help but grin. If Lydia is challenging her, she's more than up for it. 

“I was,” she says. She lowers her head back down and lingers for a few moments on the valley between Lydia's breasts, gently biting the soft, clean skin there. From there, it's to her ribs, then her stomach. By the time Laura reaches Lydia's hips, the room completely smells like want, _their_ want, intermingled and inseparable. Laura knows that, technically, she's probably marked Lydia more than enough but she thinks she should keep going, just in case the message isn't clear enough. 

Besides, although Laura is already fairly certain of the answer, she _has_ to find out if Lydia tastes as good as she smells. 

Thankfully, Lydia's skirt doesn't have zippers or buttons; it simply slides off, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. The skin along the inside of Lydia's thighs is the softest thing Laura's ever touched and she can't help but suck a bruise into it. The noise Lydia makes is so heavenly that Laura does it again, leaving a second bruise just above the first. She doesn't mean to tear Lydia's panties off her body but thankfully, Lydia doesn't complain or hiss at her this time. Instead, she just lifts her hips up, making it very clear what she wants. Laura meets her halfway, flicking her tongue against her clit, trying not to grip her thighs too hard. 

“I'm not a doll,” Lydia says, carding her hands through Laura's hair and pressing upwards against her mouth. “Don't treat me like it.” 

“Fine,” Laura says, unable to keep the growl out of her voice. If Lydia doesn't want to be treated like a doll, then Laura's going to treat her like a wolf. Laura slips her tongue into the warm, tight heat of her body and Lydia cries out, the muscles in her thighs twitching against Laura's palms. When she slides two of her fingers in, Lydia practically sobs, opening her legs further so that Laura has more room to maneuver. 

She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing Laura has ever seen. As she curls her fingers towards the spot that makes Lydia curse and clutch her hair even harder, Laura comes to the conclusion that maybe it's for the best that Lydia won't take the bite. After all, while the bond between the wolves in a pack extends to the furthest ends of the Earth, Laura is pretty sure that it's only going to be a matter of time before she feels that bond with Lydia as well. 

She should be scared by that, should be scared that an eighteen year human has brought her to her knees. But mainly, all she can think about is what she'd be willing to do for Lydia if she was a wolf. 

Now _that's_ a scary thought.

When Lydia comes, it's with a sharp cry, grinding against Laura's face so hard that she can feel a bruise forming. Laura licks her through the aftershocks, filling her mouth with Lydia's taste and even when she's too sensitive to touch further, Laura only pulls away slightly. Although there's no doubt that Lydia is completely covered in her scent, there's nothing wrong with being extra thorough. She presses her cheek along the inside of Lydia's thighs for good measure, soothing over the purple bruises she left earlier. Only then does she sit back on her knees, all too aware of how warm and wet she is herself. 

“Why didn't you think of that sooner?” Lydia asks, her cheeks flushed pink, her hair fanned across Laura's pillows. “You could have done that anytime you wanted to.” 

“I didn't think you wanted it,” Laura responds, gently trailing her claws down the inside of Lydia's thigh to the bend of her knee. When she breathes in, the room smells so good that she can't stop her eyes from flashing red. “I thought you hated me.”

“I didn't want you to bite and possibly kill me,” Lydia says matter-of-factually. “And it seemed like that was all you ever wanted to talk about.” 

“The bite wouldn't kill you,” Laura says. “You would have survived. You're strong.” 

“I don't need the bite to prove that,” Lydia mutters, rolling her eyes and Laura's pretty sure she's overstepped a boundary. Before she can apologize, Lydia sits up and pushes at the hem of Laura's shirt, trailing her fingers along her stomach. 

“Are you sure you did a good enough job marking me?” she asks with a raised eyebrow. She trails her fingers lower and lower until they're pressing firmly against the seam of Laura's jeans and she grinds down against them, eyes flashing red again. 

“I'll have to renew the scent every so often,” she says, forcing her voice to stay steady. “Just to make sure everyone understands that you're part of the pack.” 

“Well, there's nothing wrong with being thorough,” Lydia says, popping open the button and zipper on Laura's pants, brushing her lips along Laura's stomach. “Maybe we should start now. Just to make sure.” 

Laura thinks that's the smartest idea Lydia has ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
